


Ultimate Grand Supreme

by kuriadalmatia



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: BDSM, Gangbang, Impact Play, Kink Meme, M/M, Multi, Sensation Play, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 09:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuriadalmatia/pseuds/kuriadalmatia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Aaron's Master expresses his desire to show Aaron off to other Doms, Aaron realizes that it's something he wants as well, although he's fiercely private and protective of their relationship. Yet Morgan's harsh comments about Aaron's trust issues make him want to prove his ability to trust not only to his Master, but himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ARCHIVING: my AO3 LJ and FFNet account.... anyone else? Please ask first.
> 
> Feedback always welcome.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: The Mark Gordon Company, ABC Studios and CBS Paramount Network Television own Criminal Minds. Salut! I just took them out to play and I promise put them back when I'm done. I'm not making any profit just trying to get these images out of my head.
> 
> COMMENTS: Thanks to LeoScorpio for the beta and critique. Spoilers for Season 7. If you look hard enough, you can see the crossover with that little crime drama set in Vegas.
> 
> Originally posted at Ansera's Kink Meme VI (http://ansera.livejournal.com/54137.html?thread=2748537#t2748537) for the prompt: "Dom!Reid shows off his sub at a private party with other Doms (and subs, if author chooses) so he can fulfill sub!Hotch's fantasy of being gangbanged. Would prefer if Hotch is blindfolded the entire time but that's up to the author."

~~~~~~~~

Aaron’s curled on his side, body flush to his Master’s and his head on his Master’s shoulder. His Master’s hand runs through his hair and down his back, silent approval for his performance this evening. Aaron’s still coming down from the orgasmic high and he’s always thankful that his Master takes such good care of him.

They’re quiet like this. Aaron knows it’s unlikely they’ll do anything more tonight and there are moments, such as this one, where he doesn’t want the scene to end. Aaron knows he has no control over when things start or stop (except for his safe words, of course), but he also knows he’s safe here. He never thought that being submissive would be a respite that he craved. They are only Dom/sub in specific settings: when his Master initiates it in the bedroom or in the house when they are alone, or if Aaron requests it and his Master grants it. It is never on the Job. Those boundaries add to the comfort that Aaron receives from the relationship.

His Master lets out a long sigh. It's contemplative. Maybe his Master doesn't want to release him from the scene yet but feels that, for whatever reason, he should. Their breathing syncs and Aaron wills himself stay calm.

“I would love to show you off,” his Master finally says.

The comment is unexpected; their relationship is insular and there has never been discussion of taking it outside the confines of their home. Then, pride and pleasure surge through Aaron. That his Master thinks that much of him, of his obedience and his devotion, to want to do that? It’s quickly followed by fear, because while he’s proud of his relationship with his Master, he’s fiercely protective of it. So is his Master.

His Master’s thumb traces Aaron’s lower lip. “The other Doms would be envious that I have you. You know that, right? Their subs would pale in comparison.”

Aaron blushes at the compliment. His Master rarely doles out such flattery. He remains silent, because while his Master did ask a question, it is a rhetorical one.

“I really would like to show you off,” his Master sounds wistful.

Aaron wants to say, I would be honored, but anxiety keeps him silent. What he has with his Master is precious, something he doesn’t want to share. It's his safe place, where he can let go of everything and place himself in the hands of his Master and know that he will be taken care of. Being presented to other Doms would mean extending his trust and that makes him skittish.

A secret is no longer a secret once someone else knows.

But in his fantasies? Well, he imagines himself standing tall next to his Master, thrilled that his Master wants to put him on display. Aaron would perform to the best of his abilities because he never wants to disappoint his Master. He would not be embarrassed. Would not be fearful that his private life would become public. He would have faith in the other Doms to treat him with the same careful precision as his Master does. He would be presented as his Master's sub, and yes, all the other subs would be positively jealous because Spencer is his Master.

He would hope the Doms would be envious of what his Master has. He would try his best to generate that feeling from the other Doms if he'd be given the opportunity.

His Master pats him lightly on the shoulder, “We should get some sleep.”

Their time tonight is over. The scene is done.

He settles against Spencer and drifts off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~


	2. Chapter 2

~~~~~~~~~

Two months go by and the subject of ponying Aaron out for other Doms doesn’t come up. Aaron’s curious, of course, because Spencer doesn’t say things just to say things when they’re in their Dom/sub time.

Of course, some of the two months passing had to do with the Job, not just from the UnSubs but Bureau politics. Aaron’s professional relationship with Morgan is still jagged and brittle after the whole Prentiss "coming back from the dead" thing. The camaraderie shared by being a unit chief is gone. While Morgan still takes on more paperwork than he needs to, there is an aloofness and wariness that wasn't there before. It aggravates Aaron because if Morgan had to make the decision about Prentiss, Morgan would make the same one that Aaron did.

Down in Florida, Morgan makes a crack about Hotch’s trust issues and it still hurts like hell. Aaron seethes with resentment. Aaron wants to shout, _I trust Spencer with my being,_ because he does. He gives himself to Spencer without hesitation because he knows that Spencer will protect him and cherish him. Yes, his limits will be pushed but that’s what a good Master does.

But Aaron couldn’t at that time, because he was Hotch and (as hypocritical as it is), some lines just can't be crossed. Earning Spencer's forgiveness when Prentiss came back had been surprisingly easy. All Spencer had said was, "You've punished yourself enough already. I'm angry and it will take me time to accept the reasoning, but I understand." Within three weeks, all was back to normal.

Now, they've returned from Florida, Strauss is back in rehab, and Morgan's comment is still eating at him. Aaron's more miserable that he’s been in a while. Morgan isn't the type to let go of a perceived 'betrayal' and the implication that Aaron can't trust anyone burns badly.

It’s why when he and Spencer retire to the bedroom for the evening, Spencer walking ahead of him and chatting about various Winter Solstice festivals, Aaron drops to his knees once the door is closed and locked. He places his hands flat on his thighs, and keeps his gaze firmly on the carpet in front of him.

Spencer continues for a few moments before abruptly stopping. He must have turned and seen Aaron. They have a routine that they go through when starting a scene and this is not part of it. Granted, Spencer can assume the role of Master anytime he wants and Aaron is expected to comply immediately. Yet if Aaron asks, his Master reserves the right to turn him down.

Aaron closes his eyes, but flexes his fingers on the fine wool of his trousers.

He’s angry. His pride is damaged. He needs to prove Morgan wrong and knows precisely how to do it, even if he's only proving it to himself.

Again.

He desperately wants his Master to grant his unspoken request.

The seconds that tick by are excruciating. Aaron can’t control his breathing or stop himself from gripping and releasing the fabric beneath his palms. He hears Spencer move about the room and then the quiet creak of the bed springs.

“Here,” his Master orders, voice low and commanding.

Aaron momentarily sways with relief before shuffling over and positing himself between his Master's knees. He keeps his gaze focused on the floor. He hasn’t been given permission to look up.

“What do you wish?” his Master asks.

He swallows hard before saying, “You said once that you wanted to show me off.” He steadies himself. “If it still is your wish, it would be my honor, sir.”

Fingers ghost across Aaron’s brow, down the side of his face and then under his chin. “Look at me,” his Master says, “and tell me again.”

There’s no hesitation as he looks up. There’s no hitch in his voice as he says firmly, “Please, sir, if you wish to show me off, it will be my honor.”

“Why?”

"Because you wish it." Aaron pauses. "Because I trust you."

A small smile plays across his Master’s lips as he nods slightly. Aaron wonders if his Master knows about Morgan’s accusation or if he’s guessing that this has been something that’s been building for weeks. His Master’s voice is gentle as he says, “I know you trust me. There’s no need to prove it.”

Aaron keeps the frown off his features, the disappointment from twisting his lips. He knows his Master’s words are meant to be comforting, but they crush him.

“Yet you still want to,” his Master continues.

“Yes, sir.” His voice is level. Devoid of emotion. Either his Master will grant his wish or he won’t.

Suddenly, his Master slides down next to him, nudging Aaron to face him sideways. Aaron does, but drops his gaze again. His Master traces Aaron’s features with his fingers, light and graceful. “If I do show you off,” his Master begins and then presses his forefinger into Aaron’s mouth.

Aaron automatically begins tonguing and sucking the digit, giving it all the attention he would if it were his Master’s cock.

“If I do show you off, the other Doms will want to sample you,” his Master explains as he taps on Aaron’s chin to force him to look up. “They will want to touch you. They may want to put their cocks in your mouth. They may want to fuck your throat and cum on you.”

Aaron shivers as his eyes lock with his Master’s. He continues to suck his Master’s finger.

“They will want to play with your ass, spread you open and inspect you. They will want to clamp your nipples and hang weights from your balls. They will want to bind your dick with rope.” His Master pulls his finger abruptly from Aaron’s mouth. “They may want to fuck you so hard and long that you will lose track of which cock belongs to which Dom.” His Master leans closer. “Is that what you want?”

It’s a fantasy that Aaron has never spoken of. One that he keeps locked away tightly because the possibility of it happening was, up until this point, astronomically remote. Yet his Master’s blunt, detailed description flares it back to life. It’s a relinquishment of power and a state of vulnerability that is absolutely petrifying, but … but …

“You will be there,” Aaron states.

His Master’s eyes narrow. “Yes.”

“And I will still have my safe word.”

“Yes.”

“Then, if it is what you wish, yes.”

His Master's features go unreadable. He lets out a sigh. "I will consider it."

It's not the answer Aaron wants, but he knows that he will work even harder to prove himself, to erase any doubt that his Master may have about his performance.

He will.

~~~~~~~~~


	3. Chapter 3

~~~~~~~~~

During the next month, his Master is much more aggressive. Not just physically; Aaron has always had a high endurance. It's the incorporation of their Dom/sub relationship into a public setting that sends Aaron off-kilter: wearing a cock cage while at the grocery, purchasing a new sex toy while in his suit and carrying his weapon, and allowing his Master to order his dinner for him in a restaurant. It makes him edgy and he's not as quick to comply with the requests.

It culminates in his refusal of the Pool Order.

Up until Foyet, Aaron had included swimming as part of his weekly exercise if he had access to a pool. Spencer would occasionally join him and sometimes even challenge him to a race. With his scars now, Aaron had eliminated the pool from the equation.

His Master forces it back in.

Aaron balks.

His Master punishes him, but not physically or verbally. No. His Master knows him well.

His Master ignores him.

And that is the worst thing of all.

Aaron isn't worthy of his Master's attention.

His Master even leaves the city.

On Day Fourteen of his punishment, Aaron goes to the Y. As he changes into his swim trunks and walks down to the pool area, he ignores the mutters of "Jesus Christ" and "fucking hell"; he wonders if anyone recognizes him from press conferences. Up until this afternoon, only six people have ever seen his bared torso since his release from the hospital: the doctor and nurse responsible for his post-op care; Dave, Jessie, Jack (because the boy insisted) and Spencer.

Aaron rinses himself before plunging into the barely heated water.

He swims six laps knowing that he's got an audience. He's not a fantastic swimmer; he's not graceful like Spencer. His pace is moderate, slow even. It's been a while. Those who are watching are merely gawkers.

Aaron understands why his Master made this demand, that Aaron has to get over his self-consciousness about Foyet's handiwork. To no longer see his scars as nine marks of failure but as something else. Aaron also knows that all he had to do was invoke his safe word, and his Master would have dropped the issue.

He wonders why he didn’t.

A simple swim in the pool isn't going to erase the baggage, but it does force Aaron to deal with people seeing his marked body.

His fingers touch the smooth tile and he stops. Aaron grips the lip of the pool and treads water, squinting at the clock and calculating his time.

"Five minutes, thirty-four seconds."

Aaron turns to find his Master in the lane next to him, blue swim goggles around his neck. It's unexpected. It's … it's …

Spencer gives a small nod and then puts the goggles on. "One lap. Whoever wins gets to choose dinner."

The emotion that hits Aaron is overwhelming; it takes everything to keep his features neutral as his mind sings, _Forgiven! Forgiven! Forgiven!_

"One lap," he repeats.

It doesn't matter who wins. It just matters his Master is here.

His Master is here.

~~~~~~~~~~~


	4. Chapter 4

~~~~~~~~~~~

Another month passes by, and it's like the discussion about Aaron being presented to other Doms never happened.

It's disappointing, of course, but Aaron accepts it. His professional relationship with Morgan is on the mend, thanks to his Master's intervention. Aaron has no idea what was said and doesn’t pry, but whatever it was seems to have finally mend the bridge between Aaron and Morgan. It eases Aaron's need to prove his trust to his Master, but the desire is still there.

His Master still pushes him during their times together, but since the Pool Incident, Aaron has been exceptionally obedient. He is rewarded, as always; his Master is kind and wise in that respect.

There are times when his Master is being particularly intense—Aaron sucking his Master's cock while fucking himself with a p-spot vibrator, his cock and balls bound and his nipples clamped with weights. These are the moments that Aaron wonders, _Is he doing this to show me what I can have with him? To make me wonder why I would want to go elsewhere?_

It's all good. Aaron's orgasms are mind-bending and soul-exploding.

His Master approves, and really, at the end of the day, that's all that Aaron wants.

~~~~~~~~~~~~


	5. Chapter 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaron will never say it aloud, but he's not particularly fond of Vegas. It's not like Boston; he hates Boston with a vengeance, but Vegas? Well. He's just not a fan.

Still, Spencer wishes to spend three days in the city while Jack is at Scout camp for a week. It's hard for Aaron, because he wants to be right there in case something happens to their son, but Spencer somewhat assuages his unspoken fears by calculating flight and drive times of Vegas versus DC to get where Jack is camping in Tennessee. It's kind of a wash (not really) but Aaron knows it's another way of Spencer pushing him to not hold Jack's hand for everything.

Their hotel room is modest and off the Strip. They spend a few hours with Spencer's mom before she has an episode which forces them to leave. Aaron knows from previous experiences, his Master will want to control him more than usual to make up for the powerlessness he feels when dealing with his mother.

What Aaron's not expecting is a new set of clothes on the bed, right down to socks and underwear. What he's not expecting is the enema (which they've only done twice) or Spencer taking the electric trimmer to Aaron's pubic hair (which usually only happens when they do rope play). The cock cage/ball splitter—leather and steel, far more decorative than he's had before—and the butt plug—black and slightly fatter than what they usually use—are also new.

"Get dressed," his Master instructs after the new toys are fitted and he heads towards the bathroom.

Curious, Aaron puts on the new clothes—dressy casual but something Aaron would never have in his closet. It's not obnoxious just … Aaron stares at himself in the mirror. It's just _different_. Anxiety kicks in because obviously, they are going out on the town tonight. Maybe he'll witness his Master playing poker or blackjack, which is a definite kink for him. Maybe they'll go to one of the clubs and his Master will indulge in Aaron's fantasy of semi-public sex.

He knows he can work himself up into a mental frenzy, so he forces himself to calm down. He wasn't given additional direction except to dress, so he picks up his tablet to check email. He paces a little, getting used to how everything feels in his ass and around his cock and balls. He's not quite up for sitting down just yet and he'll be damned it there will be a hitch in his step if he walks out in public.

When his Master emerges, Aaron just stares. The joke around the BAU is that Spencer could have been a fashion model with his slim frame, high cheekbones and elegant hands. Tonight? There is no doubt.

Aaron's stuttering compliments sound stupid, childish, but his Master favors him with an amused smile as he walks over. He gestures for Aaron to kneel, which Aaron does. He can't help the hiss that escapes as the toys shift. He hears the clink of metal hitting the wood table and watches the legs of the chair as it's pulled out and his Master sits.

His Master taps his chin and he looks up. In his Master's left hand is a black silk scarf. His Master then pulls the item off the table with his right and shows it to Aaron: a soft leather collar.

Aaron takes a deep breath as he meets his Master's eyes. The early playfulness as he was fitting the cock cage and butt plug on Aaron is gone. His Master is serious and … there's a bit of hesitation hiding in his expression.

"I expressed a desire a few months ago," his Master begins, "on something that you later even requested from me. I did not grant it at the time because I was concerned about your motivations. I understand your need to prove yourself, especially to yourself. Your pride was hurt, your ego wounded, and it's only natural to seek a way to repair that. However, I did think that your interest was genuine." His Master tilts his head to the side. "It's why I have been pushing you so hard, so that if you still desired to be presented, you would be prepared as best as I can prepare you."

Aaron's mouth goes dry.

"Are you still interested in being presented?"

"Yes, sir," Aaron answers immediately, knowing his eagerness is pouring off of him. "I would be honored and I will do my best to serve you well."

His Master's smile is warm, indulgent. He takes a kiss from Aaron before settling back in his seat. "I have made arrangements for this evening. I have known these people a while and I trust them."

"I understand, sir."

He holds out the collar again. "This is a symbol of our commitment to this relationship. Will you wear it?"

They never discussed collars before, but he understands the significance. Suddenly, Aaron can't wait to have it around his neck. "Yes, sir."

His Master fits the leather around Aaron's throat. It's soft and understated. When Aaron feels tab slide into the buckle, the gratefulness that rushes through him is nearly overwhelming.

"You belong to me," his Master says as he arranges Aaron's shirt.

"Yes, sir."

"The boundaries for this evening have already been negotiated," he continues and then outlines what will not take place. It's the standard list—no scat, bloodplay, breathplay, gunplay or visible bruises—with two caveats: blindfolds are optional and gags are allowed for other subs but not for Aaron. Bondage, spanking (but not cropping or caning), and rope play are on the table, as is oral and anal intercourse. His Master ends the list with "but absolutely no humiliation."

It's the one thing Aaron had never thought about when it came to his relationship with his Master. They entered into it with the understanding of respect and boundaries. The "no humiliation" clause makes Aaron wonder if he should renegotiate his own boundaries with his Master to include it, but he doesn't want to insult. He pushes it temporarily from his mind because with each point, his Master grows more serious.

"Do you accept these parameters?"

His Master's gaze is intense. Aaron feels trapped by it, but does not look down. His answer is a firm, "Yes, sir."

His Master's voice is steely as he states, "Tonight will be unlike anything you have ever experienced. Your verbal and nonverbal safe words have been shared." His Master looms over Aaron. "If you are overwhelmed, I expect you to invoke your right to end the scene. There is _no shame_ in doing this. _None._ " His Master is ferocious. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Aaron tries to keep the insulted tone out of his voice.

His Master grabs Aaron's chin and squeezes hard. "If I see you are in distress and I have to make the decision on your behalf …" He abruptly releases Aaron. He pulls on the collar. "You will lose this." Aaron's eyes widen. "We will still be a couple, but this side of our relationship? _This side?_ " He tugs with each word. "This side will end." He drops his hands to his sides. _"Do you understand?"_

Panic surges through Aaron. He's worked so hard for this that it's become something he cannot lose. Intellectually, he understands why his Master is being so strict. Aaron is competitive by nature and he'll push himself to extremes—past acceptable limits—in order to win. It's why he's been so successful professionally. His Master knows his competitiveness and, in his wisdom, is addressing the issue.

It does little to calm Aaron. His mind races. His mouth is dry. Scenarios play in his head, ones in which his Master misinterprets Aaron's stress level and he steps in. One in which his Master does not allow him to explain.

Aaron stutters, "Yes, sir," but his breathing is all over the place. His Master tilts his head, obviously unconvinced. Finally, a thought blossoms. A caveat like the bit about the blindfolds and gags. The idea is coalescing but is not coherent. He utters the word, "Marigold," but can't articulate why.

His Master crosses his arms. "Marigold?"

"Pause. Slow down." The words rush out. In his desperation, he can't formulate complete sentences. "Marigold."

This time when his Master touches him, it is gentle. Soothing. "Marigold," he repeats as he cradles Aaron's jaw. There's amusement in his eyes. "Marigold is reasonable."

"Thank you, sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~


	6. Chapter 6

~~~~~~~~~~~

Admittedly, Aaron feels like an idiot riding in the passenger's seat with a blindfold on. It is what his Master wants, so he tries to accept it gracefully but isn't quite sure how well he does; it doesn't stop him from thinking that he must look like a moron. A blindfolded passenger is going to draw—hell, it _should_ draw—attention.

Then, his Master laughs, "We're in Vegas. A guy in a blindfold isn't going to attract that much attention. Actually, I think it's one of the rights-of-passage here."

It's an odd mental space for Aaron: submissive because of how he's dressed and adorned yet his Master's equal because of the ease of conversation. It makes him think of the dinner lesson, when his Master ordered for him and he was only allowed to take a bite when his Master did. As he did that evening, Aaron struggles to find the right balance.

"Bachelor parties," Aaron concedes, going back to the conversation.

"And corporate teambuilding," Spencer adds. "There was this one group who was blindfolded and dropped off at the convention center. It didn't end well."

"Really."

"Oh, I don't know all the details, but apparently some of the men took the opportunity to grope women inappropriately and then claim that they were not responsible for their actions because they were blindfolded."

"Ah. Lawyers?"

"Pharmaceutical sales reps."

"They have the worst reputations, you know."

"According to Garcia, they make the best reality show contestants."

Aaron laughs. Anticipation begins snaking through his system. What will the other Doms be like? Are they local? Or did they all agree to meet in Vegas because, well, _What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas._ He knows that there will be three, maybe four other people there, all men. Spencer remains vague on names and how he met them, but he reiterates that trust is of upmost importance for all of them as is discretion.

Part of the thrill, Aaron supposes, is the anonymity of it. It makes him a little nervous—is Spencer being deliberately coy because Aaron either _knows_ these people or has worked with them in the past?—but it all keeps coming down to the whole trust thing.

Aaron trusts Spencer.

Arousal joins in the anticipation. The cock cage keeps him in check. He squirms and the plug bumps against his prostate. He gasps and grabs the door handle. Spencer snorts in amusement and it's not the first time that Aaron has entertained the thought of dominating his Master for just one evening.

Aaron's not sure how long they ride but by the time they arrive at wherever they are, the denial of an erection begins to be a distraction. His Master tugs on Aaron's collar and Aaron immediately falls fully into his submissive mindset. His Master rubs Aaron's crotch and Aaron moans.

"You're allowed to make noise," his Master tells him. "But you're limited with your words."

"Yes, sir."

"Good." His Master toys with Aaron's collar. "It's time to begin."

The trip from the car to the door is short and not as obstacle-ridden as Aaron was expecting. His Master expertly guides him, warning him about steps (two which are six paces from where Aaron got out of the car, and another two six paces after that). Aaron takes in the sounds, realizing that he must be in the suburbs due to lack of traffic.

His Master knocks and the door is almost immediately opened. "Starting to think you all got lost!" a man declares, his muted accent distinctly Texan. 'You all' comes out as 'yall.' "C'mon in."

"Six inch step, raised threshold," his Master murmurs as he leads Aaron inside. "Where should I …?"

"Over there," Texas says.

His Master turns him to the right and leads him for fourteen paces before he's turned and his Master's hands are on his shoulders. He can feel the back of a chair against his legs. His Master orders, "Sit."

Aaron complies, knowing that someone is in a chair next to him. The man's breathing gives him away. It sounds wet and nervous, so this sub is likely to have a gag of some sorts. It eggs Aaron to control his own breathing to prove that, while he is nervous (there's no hiding perspiration or the fine tremors in his system), he's not going to be that obvious about it.

He listens as his Master walks away and … a door closes.

Like Aaron is a coat that his Master has put in the closet. He wants to chuckle but holds it in. The guy next to him is clearly unsettled by the situation; he keeps moving around. Aaron has faith in his Master and Texas that if this sub were to give his signal, they would release him. He feels sorry that this sub doesn't apparently share the feeling.

Suddenly, Darth Vader's voice is echoing in his head: _I find your lack of faith disturbing._

He stifles a giggle. Aaron's mind always plays hell with him in a sensory deprivation situation. It's something that his Master has been experimenting with, which is probably why Aaron is blindfolded.

Texas and his Master are talking, although it's impossible to make out precisely what the conversation is about. Country plays softly in the background; Aaron's not a fan so he doesn't recognize the songs or the artist. Aaron knows if he dwells on his own inactivity, he'll start to fidget as badly as his fellow sub.

So, Aaron begins to profile.

By the time his Master retrieves him and his fellow sub from where they've been secluded, Aaron has a profile of Texas based on the scant facts he knows: upper middle class upbringing but now has a middle-class lifestyle, transplanted to Vegas for work, and has some authority at the workplace but isn't the one in charge. His sub is tougher to figure out, but the nervousness makes Aaron think that the man hasn't been a submissive for long.

His Master guides him around the room(s) with his hand on Aaron's lower back. The pressure on his shoulder tells him to kneel. He does. Texas whistles, "Nice."

Aaron doesn't smirk, although he wants to. He also wants to puff his chest out in pride but doesn't. Humility is important here, although his Master never specifically stated it. He hears the other sub stumble slightly and the affectionate "whoa, whoa, whoa cowboy," from Texas.

The other sub becomes Cowboy in Aaron's mind. Texas. Cowboy. It's fitting.

Texas and his Master resume their conversation about college hoops, a passion that Aaron hadn't known about his Master until the whole "Reid scams Morgan in basketball" incident that lead to an epic prank war. UNLV is his Master's preferred team, although he now includes Georgetown (Aaron's alma mater) as ones he roots for. UNLV seems to be Texas' team as well, so it's quite possible that Texas moved to the area for school and stayed on afterwards.

There's a clank of silverware against china … no … silverware and china don't make that sound together. It's flatware on Corelle dinnerware. Corelle makes a very specific sound. Aaron knows he's moved position, cocking his head slightly as he makes the connections, but he's not reprimanded. Either his Master didn't see the lax or he's allowed it because he's blindfolded.

Something round, small and smooth is pressed against Aaron's lips. He accepts it delicately and rolls it in his mouth, before biting down. Seedless grape. Green, maybe, because of the sharpness. A cube of cheese is next: medium sharp cheddar. It's not expensive—the texture is a bit too mealy to be a high-end one—but it's a nice counterpoint to the grape.

Another grape. Strawberry. Monterey Jack. Canned pineapple. Sharp cheddar. Sharp cheddar. Grape.

Aaron turns it into a game, to see if he can guess his Master's pattern. He wonders if Cowboy is blindfolded as well, or if he's forced to watch Aaron being hand-fed by his Master. He sincerely hopes the latter; he delicately takes the proffered items from his Master's fingers. Being fed blindfolded without a mishap is more challenging that it sounds.

Aaron now understands why his Master spent an evening doing just that.

Christ. He really _is_ being shown off like prized poodle.

He loves it.

Suddenly, the door behind Aaron bangs open and instinct takes over. His hand slaps where his holster is supposed to be and he twists to get to his feet.

 _Protect!_ his mind shouts. His Master's hand clamps down on his shoulder. Aaron almost misses the newcomer's words, "Sorry I'm late. Last minute thing at the lab. I hate the swing shift," because he's in mid-crouch and instinct wars heavily with his Master's unspoken command.

His heart is racing, his entire body tense.

"As you were," his Master murmurs, thumb rubbing Aaron's collarbone.

Aaron settles, wondering if he'll be disciplined for breaking position, but there was a threat and … Yeah. He's blindfolded and in an unknown situation. It takes a minute or so for his breathing to get back to normal. Cowboy snorts derisively and it annoys the unholy fuck out of Aaron.

 _Like you would protect your Master like I do mine,_ he thinks angrily yet he's also ashamed. His actions disrupted the scene.

His Master's moves his hand away and a few seconds later, a grape is pressed to Aaron's lips. Like before, he takes it carefully and hopes to God that his sigh of relief isn't as loud as he thinks it is. He's been forgiven.

"You started without me," the new man comments, tone indicating poutiness. The new man's accent is vaguely Minnesotan, like he's worked hard to flatten it like Texas has.

"Not our fault you can't tell time," Texas chides and the other man laughs.

Aaron listens to the footfalls: thirteen from the front door to next to his Master. His Master stands and he can hear the rustling of cloth, as if the men embraced. Minnesota says, "Good seeing you. We missed you the last time you were in town."

"I didn't have much time," Aaron's Master replies as he settles in his seat. Another grape is pressed to Aaron's lips. He takes it as precisely as before.

"Nice," Minnesota compliments and then pets Aaron.

"Thank you," his Master replies, pride evident in his voice.

"May I?" Minnesota asks.

"Of course."

Aaron hears the rustle of fabric and then a strawberry is pressed to his lips. He takes it with his teeth, careful not to use his tongue. Aaron chews quickly, because he can feel the excitement rolling off Minnesota. The Dom—he must be new to the scene and share the sub with Texas—laughs giddily and then another strawberry is brushed down Aaron's nose. Aaron opens his mouth slightly and the berry is placed between his teeth.

"Amazing," the Minnesotan says breathlessly. Fingers run over Aaron's blindfold and down his jaw. A thumb strokes his lips as chews.

Aaron wonders if Cowboy is seething by now. He knows he would be.

"Shall we?" asks the Texas.

His Master caresses Aaron's shoulder. "Lead on."

Aaron knows that the two Doms will focus on him while his Master takes his pleasure with the other sub. He wrestles with his possessiveness, because while there is anxiety about placing himself in the care of _two_ Doms he's never met before, his jealousy that another sub will bask in his Master's attention overrides that. When his Master's hand leaves his shoulder, Aaron shivers hard.

He can't help it.

Yet, he doesn't make a sound.

He senses the three Doms moving about the room. Cowboy is noisy, which is probably the reason for the gag. Texas is the one who slips his hand under Aaron's left arm and pulls him slightly. Aaron stands as gracefully as he can, surprised that Minnesota is so close on his right.

Aaron remembers his Master's words: _If I do show you off, the other Doms will want to sample you._ He knows these words are true. He can feel it rolling off both Doms.

 _He_ is what they're trying to achieve with their own sub.

The profiler in Aaron hopes to God this isn't the trigger that inspires Cowboy to go on murderous rampage in Vegas, killing lawyers over forty (because he's almost certain that's how his Master presented him, although explaining Aaron's "must protect" actions earlier may be a bit more challenging). He hopes that the other sub understands that it took Aaron a damn long time to get to the point where he's not freaking out over the fact that two strangers are unbuttoning his silk shirt and he's as still as he can be.

Cool air hits Aaron's chest. He forces his breathing to be even although his shame is exposed to everyone in the room. Cowboy makes a sound, but Aaron's Master shushes him quickly. Surprisingly, Texas is the one who caresses Aaron's shoulder comfortingly, unspoken praise for his bravery.

At least, that's what Aaron tells himself.

Two pairs of hands roam over his jaw, his lips, his shoulders, his back, his belly and his nipples. They studiously avoid the scars. Aaron wonders if the rules that his Master set forth included no scar play but he didn't tell Aaron, because it's instinctual for people to inspect them in such intimate surroundings. Tears of gratefulness prickle his eyes and Aaron's thankful of the blindfold.

Aaron's nipples are pinched hard and then rubbed. Texas's fingertips are rough, calloused like someone who has fired a gun. Minnesota's are smoother; he mentioned 'the lab' when he came in but it's clear to Aaron both Texas and Minnesota are some flavor of law enforcement. He can't explain it, but given the scant information he has, it's really the only logical choice.

Aaron wonders if his Master trained these two Doms since they share some of the same techniques. They are a simple, easy way to judge how obedient a sub is. Thumbnails drag across the nubs, pain followed by pleasure.

He hears his Master murmuring a compliment to the other sub but he's not exactly sure what is said. Minnesota is working Aaron's belt while Texas strokes the leather around Aaron's neck. It's distracting but right now, the most important thing is Aaron's obedience. His trousers are pulled down and Texas cups him through the cotton of his fitted boxer-briefs. Aaron spreads his legs and Texas murmurs his approval.

Soon, his trousers, shoes and socks are removed. Hands continue to roam his skin, pinching-flicking-poking, until finally his underwear is gone. Minnesota is the first to fondle the cock cage. "Very nice work."

"Impressive," adds Texas although Aaron isn't sure if he's referring to the cage itself or Aaron's leaking cock. Texas's hands are all over Aaron's ass. Aaron is moved around and then Minnesota places Aaron's hands on what feels like the back of a couch. He's pushed forward and his legs are nudged apart. He's not sure who is playing with the butt plug but Aaron can't help the moan that escapes him.

"No words," Texas admonishes.

"That was a sound," Aaron's Master corrects. "Not an actual word."

Minnesota laughs, "You a lawyer now?"

"He is," his Master replies and the three Doms share a chuckle.

"I still want to …" Texas cups Aaron's ass.

"Not in punishment," Aaron's Master states.

"Fair enough."

That's when Aaron realizes that Spencer Reid is the Master of the entire damn thing. He positions himself invitingly although he's surprised when Minnesota grabs his junk and pulls it forward. "Go ahead," Minnesota says. In Aaron's ear, he commands, "Count."

Aaron nods, mindful of Texas's reaction to speaking. The first blow is light, as if Texas isn't quite sure. Aaron says, "One." The second is harder and now Minnesota is rubbing the head of Aaron's cock. "Two."

The blows aren't substantial; he's endured much stiffer hits at the hands of his own Dom, but Aaron realizes these two Masters are taking care of their new play toy, not wanting to do too much damage. He tunes everything out except the pain-pleasure and keeping quiet.

Number Fifteen leaves him weak-kneed, sweaty and breathless. Minnesota soothes him by petting his face and playing with his nipples. "Good, so good."

Aaron can vaguely hear Cowboy whimpering somewhere to his left, high-pitched and whiny. God, Aaron hopes he doesn't sound like that when he's being paddled.

The butt plug is eased from Aaron's ass. It's disconcerting to have two sets of hands playing with him, spreading his cheeks and dipping into his hole. The lube that drizzles down his crack is cold—refrigerator cold—and it takes everything in Aaron not to jerk away. He gasps, but it's a sound he's allowed.

Texas begins finger-fucking him, moving until he hits Aaron's prostate. Aaron moans and does his best not to arch too much, but the pleasure that runs through him is intense. Minnesota tweaks his nipples hard and Aaron flexes his hands on the back of the couch. Then, Minnesota moves away. Texas adds a second finger and increases his pace. It's rougher than before, but it's pretty tame compared to what he's endured at the hands of his own Master.

A muffled yipe comes from the direction of Cowboy. Aaron wonders what his Master is doing since he doesn't hear the familiar sound of hand or paddle against flesh.

"He's pretty sensitive there," Texas says.

"Mm hmmm," Aaron's Master acknowledges and Cowboy makes the same sound again. "Very ticklish."

Aaron tenses, because he absolutely _hates_ being tickled and that wasn't one of the "off the table" items that his Master listed earlier. If he's subjected to it, he wonders how much he can put up with before blurting out his safe word because 'Marigold' wouldn't be enough.

Texas rubs his other hand along Aaron's flank, as if to soothe him. He removes his fingers and Aaron does his best not to panic. Is this Dom being overly cautious? God, Aaron hopes not. He hears Minnesota walking towards them; this Dom drags his feet slightly with his stride.

"That turned out nice," Texas comments. Aaron forces himself to relax again, hoping that Texas's pause was only because Minnesota came back from wherever he was.

"Best one yet," Minnesota agrees.

Then, something hard and frigid is pressed along Aaron's butt crack. It takes everything not to shout and jerk away. Aaron now has a death grip on the couch, his breathing is labored, and he's pressing his lips together in an effort not to sound like Cowboy.

He realizes it's a game between the Doms, testing the limits of the subs at their command. Cowboy is whimpering again and Aaron knows that the two Doms will try to one-up his Master.

Minnesota's smooth fingers spread Aaron's butt cheeks. Aaron knows what's coming next, but it doesn't stop the low whine as the ice cold dildo is pushed slowly into his ass.

Panic sets in as scenes from _A Christmas Story,_ when Flick's tongue got stuck to the flagpole race through Aaron's mind. It's quickly followed by the memory of Spencer's explanation about thermal energy and how metal absorbed the heat from Flick's tongue …

"I ran it under cold water to remove the frost," Minnesota suddenly says, a little indignant. Aaron's Master must have given him a look. "The ice started to melt so there's no risk." Minnesota's frigid hands cup Aaron's cock and balls. "It's not like you're letting us play with _everything_ so …"

Aaron's Master doesn't reply. It's a curious exchange, certainly. Aaron focuses on that, trying to suss out why his Master apparently isn't allowing either Dom to mess around with Aaron's junk. It helps him tune out being fucked by an ice dildo.

It also keeps him from thrashing when ice is pressed to his nipples.

He's not surprised when an ice cube is pressed to his lips, but Minnesota's instructions do: "Let it melt on your tongue."

So Aaron does, all the while the icicle is stuffed in and out of his ass.

He's not sure how long it lasts, but his hole is numb and, well, it worries him. His Master has never really employed temperature play at this level; ice along the body is one thing. Ice in his ass? Something else. Now the nerve endings are numbed and it will be difficult to judge his pain level if either of these Doms decide to put more things up his ass.

The fucking finally stops and … a very warm tongue rims him. Aaron lets out a low moan, shaking from the pinpoint heat versus the all-over cold. His mouth is open as he gasps for breath, the sensation like no other.

The moment Minnesota's dick brushes across Aaron's lips, he opens his mouth and snakes out his tongue. He licks the head of Minnesota's cock, earning a gasp and an 'oh fuck yeah,' before his mouth is full of Minnesotan dick.

Suddenly, Minnesota backs away. Aaron can't help but lunge after him, but Texas's hands on his hips keep him from pitching forward. Aaron is pulled upright, Texas's hands running up and down his chest. Texas's cock is hard against Aaron's ass.

Aaron is guided carefully to another location and it isn't until his knees hit the edge of the mattress that he knows that he's now in a room with a bed. Texas orders him to get on it and then prods Aaron into position on his hands and knees, his fingers gripping the edge of the bed. More lube is applied to his ass and yet another dildo—room temperature, Thank God—is worked into him. The cold is wearing off and the nerves flare back to awareness.

Texas steps away. Aaron can hear three sets of footsteps enter the room, Cowboy just as clumsy as before. _Do his Masters have his feet shackled?_ Aaron wonders. He can hear them settling throughout the room, the distinct sounds of zippers and rustle of clothing signaling that everyone else is undressing.

Minnesota is now squeezing Aaron's butt cheeks (both Doms are pretty obsessed with his ass) and then twists the dildo. When the vibration hits, Aaron can't help but shout and buck forward. He holds on to the edge of the bed as the rumbling sears through him.

It's incredibly intense. His cock jerks and he knows it is leaking. He can't help the quiet gasps that escape from his lips.

"Fuck yourself with it," Texas commands and Aaron hastily complies. It's an awkward position, one hand behind his back and working the vibrator while he uses the other for balance. "That's it," Texas coos. "Drive it in there." He's now in front of Aaron and when he presses his cock to Aaron's lip, he orders, "Take it deep."

Aaron's never been so thankful for his Master's lessons. It's not an easy task to fuck himself and suck cock; he's on the edge of orgasm and he wants to beg to come. But his Master has done this scenario more than once (a Dom profiling other Doms …) so Aaron knows he can carry out these orders.

He hears his Master whispering but he can't make out the words. Texas holds the back of his head and pushes even deeper. "Swallow," he commands. "Swallow my dick."

Deep throating pushes the boundaries of breathplay but Texas pulls back once Aaron works his throat. He waits few seconds and then repeats his order. Aaron swallows six times before Texas moves back and orders him to stop with the dildo.

Aaron's thankful, because his shoulder is aching. The dildo is removed by Minnesota and replaced by the man's condom-encased cock. Minnesota's pace is frantic and erratic as if the scene has made him lose control. Texas begins fucking Aaron's mouth again, but the thrusts are shallow; he also provides a running commentary about the action in the room.

Hearing that Cowboy is sucking his Master's cock makes Aaron's competitiveness kick into overdrive. He gives everything he has to Texas and Minnesota: humming to enhance fellatio, rocking between the two Doms to heighten their pleasure, spreading his legs a bit more so that Minnesota can drive deeper into him.

Texas is the one who exclaims, "Holy Jesus fucking Christ!"

Minnesota shouts as he cums deep in Aaron's ass. As soon as he withdraws, Texas pulls out of Aaron's mouth. He can hear the condom wrapper being ripped open. He can feel more lube being poured on his sore hole. He doesn't care.

Texas is thicker than Minnesota, but he drives just as hard and fast as his fellow Dom. He hits Aaron's prostate with each thrust, alternating slaps to Aaron's butt as he growls how amazing a fuck Aaron is.

Aaron can hear his Master's breathing, quick and sharp. Strained. He hears the soft command, "Stop" followed by "With me."

The last thing Aaron is expecting is another hard cock pressed to his lips and his Master order of, "Pleasure him."

So Aaron takes the dick in his mouth and begins to suck. It's not as thick as Texas's nor as long as Minnesota's. Cowboy bucks and whines, his dick slipping sloppily from Aaron's mouth. It's impossible for Aaron to move forward because of the hold Texas now has on his hips. Aaron's Master chides Cowboy for his lack of discipline, not being able to control himself enough to enjoy the gift that has been bestowed upon him.

"You heard how much your Masters enjoyed his mouth," Aaron's Master says. "Do you not wish release?"

Cowboy's wordless plea echoes in the room.

"Move away again and you will not cum this evening," Aaron's Master warns and then Cowboy's dick is back in Aaron's mouth.

It takes all of thirty seconds before Cowboy shoots his load, noisy as hell. Aaron swallows, grimacing at the bitter flavor and the watery consistency. Texas is still pounding Aaron's ass but once Cowboy cums, Texas follows suit.

Aaron is pushed face down and partially off the bed by Texas's weight; the man collapsed on him after his orgasm and his dick is rapidly growing soft. Texas finally pulls out and rolls off the bed.

The sudden loss of warmth makes Aaron shiver hard. The air is crisp and cool. He doesn't move, his body sore from the abuse, but he desperately wants to hump the bed. God, he wants to cum. He's the only one (besides his Master, maybe) who hasn't gotten off yet.

His Master's hands are on his shoulders, prodding him to move around on the mattress until he's propped up against a mound of pillows. His legs are splayed and his Master's hand is on the cage.

"Your reward," his Master murmurs, "but you can't cum until I tell you."

"Yes, sir," Aaron manages to get out. A whimper escapes as his Master fondles the straps of the cock cage. Each brush against his dick and balls are near torture. His hands are balled into fists. He's pressing back into the lush pillows propping him up.

When the cage/splitter is removed, the cool air makes Aaron hiss. His Master's hand is slick against his cock and he gives four firm strokes. Aaron's dick flares to life and he groans, trying not to thrust into his Master's hand. He's so focused on that, he almost misses the question, "How close are you?"

"Close, sir," he answers, knowing how desperate he sounds.

"How badly do you want to cum?"

"Badly, sir."

His Master strokes Aaron's cock. Aaron cries out and grabs the sheets. His Master's voice is silky, "Let go. Cum for me."

It takes five full tugs on his dick before Aaron roars as his orgasm burns through him.

Aaron's world goes blank after that.

~~~~~~~~


	7. Chapter 7

~~~~~~~~

Aaron is groggy and sore when he wakes up. He knows he's not in his own bed, but Spencer is next to him. He struggles to get his bearings, but his mind is muddy.

"What do you need?" Spencer asks sleepily.

"Gotta piss," he answers, because when he's half-awake, he's always more crass.

Spencer snickers a little. "First door on your left. Come back to bed when you're done. No wandering."

"Yeah," he says as he stumbles to get up. He sways a little as he stands, his ass and dick impossibly sore. His jaw aches as well and the bitter taste in his mouth is particularly foul. Aaron can’t find his clothes, so he tugs the folded blanket off the bottom of bed, wraps himself up in it, and somehow makes it to the bathroom without falling over.

He does his business and washes up as best as he can.

Once back in bed, Spencer curls around him, his hand caressing the collar around Aaron's throat. "You were magnificent."

Aaron wants to say something, wants to preen at the over-the-top compliment, but sleep claims him quickly.

~~~~~~~~

When Aaron wakes the second time, he's still groggy and sore as hell. A low light shines from its perch on the bureau. The room itself is relatively small with only a bed, a nightstand and a bureau as furniture, all dark polished wood. The décor is modest and doesn't say much about the owner(s) except that someone has a taste for Renoir posters from MOMA. Clothes are neatly folded on the floor next to the bureau.

He spots the bottle of orange juice on the nightstand, condensation dripping down its sides. Aaron knows it's for him but he only drinks half just in case his Master, who is dozing next to him, wants some when he wakes up. Aaron slides out of the bed, grabs the blanket and heads off to the bathroom again. He takes in more of the home from the hallway and explores the bathroom just a little while he's there.

The home is shared by two men judging by the photos in the hallway. It's easy to pick out Texas in the pictures; dark hair, handsome and he just looks like someone from Texas by the way he dresses. The other man is harder to figure out; the younger man prominent in the photographs somewhat physically resembles his Master with his brown hair and slender build. The photo of the two men together radiates love and camaraderie. Aaron guesses that the other man is Minnesota just by the landscape in the family photos of the younger man.

The door at the end of the hall is closed and Aaron concludes that it must be the master bedroom with an ensuite bathroom. There is nothing personal in the hallway full bath. Aaron does want to explore more of the house, but he's naked under the blanket and, really, it's not a polite thing to do. So he wanders back to the bedroom where his Master is now stretching in the bed.

"Ready to go?" his Master asks quietly as he rolls to his feet.

Clearly, meeting last night's participants is off the table. It's disappointing, but Aaron understands. He nods and picks up the stack of clothes, which have already been separated into his and his Master's. Aaron dresses quickly, his underwear feeling odd because he's not locked up in a cock cage. That thought makes him look around for the toys he wore earlier.

By this time, his Master is dressed and slipping on his oxfords. He meets Aaron's gaze and his smile is warm. "You really were magnificent last night."

Aaron blushes hard. "I tried my best."

His Master walks over and kisses him gently. "I know." There's a pause before his Master says, "You're released."

It takes a few moments for Aaron to adjust from the submissive mindset. He feels awkward in these clothes and in this strange house.

They leave the residence shortly afterward, Spencer picking up a brown plastic grocery bag from the table along the way. Aaron knows the bag has the cock cage and butt plug from last night.

It's not until they're sitting in the car, engine running and defroster blasting, that Spencer speaks again. "Did you enjoy yourself last night?"

Aaron hears the hesitance in his lover's voice, and he's unsure why it's there. He hedges, "It was intense. It was different. It was something … It was something I've fantasized about."

"But did you enjoy yourself?"

"Only because I knew you were there the entire time," Aaron admits. He reaches over and grasps Spencer's hand. "Did you?"

There's a sad smile that plays across his lover's lips as he squeezes Aaron's hand. "I didn't realize how possessive I am of you. I don't think I like sharing."

"Then don't."

Spencer glances at him. "Don't?"

"We've tried this," Aaron explained as he jutted his chin towards the house. "It was somewhat successful but not entirely. I'm perfectly fine with not going down this avenue again. I've had a fantasy fulfilled as have you. Done."

"One more thing off your bucket list?"

"Our bucket list," Aaron corrects as he releases Spencer's hand.

Spencer reaches over and fiddles with the leather collar still around Aaron's neck. "I love you."

Aaron places his hand over his lover's. "I love you, too." His stomach growls loudly and he remembers he didn't really have all that much to eat last night. "I'm starving, so if you don't get me to a Waffle House or whatever they have here in Vegas soon, I'm booting you from the driver's seat."

"Bossy bottom," Spencer retorts but puts the car into reverse.

"Damn straight."

They share a laugh and Spencer maneuvers the car out of the driveway. "But no Waffle House. There's this place near UNLV …"

~~~~~ Finis ~~~~

**Author's Note:**

> Instructions on a homemade ice dildo found here: http://tacit.livejournal.com/208807.html
> 
> Regarding the title, Ultimate Grand Supreme is sometimes the title given to the best in show at a beauty pageant.


End file.
